


Unrequited (Grimoire of Souls)

by rosebleue



Category: Castlevania Grimoire of Souls, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Diary/Journal, F/M, Other, Short, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 11:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20425520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosebleue/pseuds/rosebleue
Summary: (Crap I forgot to add a summary) A short fic in log form that explores an unrequited love Lucy feels for mr. Arikado.





	Unrequited (Grimoire of Souls)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm typing a fic from my cellphone at work because I've absolutely lost control of my life.
> 
> There isn't a tag for Grimoire of Souls and Lucy yet? Well, new Castlevania character and new game! Plus it will be playable next month in Tokyo Game Show. Yay. 
> 
> I'm firmly in love with Lucy and Arikado's design in this game. So much I've even made a crappy cellphone banner for this.
> 
> (Have you seen Arikado smiling in the official art? Oh my god)

Log entry, May 26, 20XX

You asked me to see my Book of Shadows, because you wanted to see my noted on that old spell, Sanctuary. You still called it the old-fashioned name, a Grimoire. I think no one in the Church still uses that name. When you were first assigned as my partner, I had trouble getting used to your way of speaking. Yes, you absolutely are multilingual, but your Hungarian is medieval, your Japanese sounds unnatural, you learnt English in the 1890s and your Italian is funny. I really, really want to find this annoying, but quite frankly, everything you do is charming instead. I've heard you use "boner'' instead of "gaffe" and "queer" in lieu of "happy" with absolutely, demolishing, self confidence. So stinkin' cute.

But I disgress. I refused to give you the old notebook, a quick blushing and making an excuse about my calligraphy being unreadable (and I guess that fits my quirky witch persona, because you didn't ask further questions) and sent you a plain .txt with my notes over the Vatican cloud. Either the pious organisation doesn't have a very big IT budget or it is a security concern, but frankly, the system drives me nuts. Then again, I'm a bit of a computer nerd, and you've heard me way too many times waxing rhapsodic about the similarities between magic and programming languages. You always tolerate my rants with a blank expression, but you have a blank expression at 90% of times.

The actual reason I didn't want you to see my book of shadows is that I use it as a journal. That's not very unusual, and most witches and scholars take notes of how their investigations relate to their daily lives. But mine? For a year it has been so thoroughly filled with my work by your side that it's unmistakably linked to my feelings. I'll never, ever, let you read my heart. 

You carry the ghosts of a hundred Belmonts, the ghosts of friends and lovers, inside of you. So how could I ever hope for you to also bear the weight of my unrequited feelings? I see you fight as the silent champion champion of humanity, even when you're not even human. I see the look of sorrow in your eyes when you kill a monster that once was a man, because you've never been one. 

You seem so cold, and yet, you always put everyone before yourself. Your face is the inexpressive visage of a medieval statue, and yet, you feel more than anyone I've ever known. I've read, in the Belmont Chronicles, that The Good Hunter, Master Trevor, used to call you a Heir to Nothing, a Tragic Prince, half-mocking the memory of you. And yet? You are here, more than half a millennium later, and still you fight, still you overcome your tragedies. It's impossible not to admire you. It's impossible not to love you, you strange, silent little prince.

So, if you can bear so much loss, I can bear my unrequited feelings on my own. The log can wait. I'll go make coffee for the both of us.


End file.
